


Put The Blame On Me

by for_the_love_of_wolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Grief, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Self-Hatred, Victim Blaming, mentions of Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves
Summary: No matter how often Derek apologizes, the burning pain of the guilt never fades. "I'm sorry" becomes his mantra. Years later, someone tells him he's not to blame. Or: After the fire, Derek stays in Beacon Hills and helps Peter to recover.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Peter Hale
Comments: 4
Kudos: 105





	Put The Blame On Me

“I’m sorry,” Derek says.  
  
Over the years, he says, thinks, whispers, screams and sobs the words. Over and over again. _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry._ The words become his mantra.

But no matter how often he repeats them, the pain never fades. No matter how hard he scrubs at his irritated skin in the shower, he doesn’t feel less dirty. No matter how often he forces himself to stay awake, the pictures, the nightmares still haunt him. Follow him.  
  
  
He can see it all in his head. So clear. So fresh. So painful …  
  
  
He sees himself sitting in the hospital, clutching at his chest, sobbing at the pain of snapped and fading pack bonds. Someone wraps an orange, rustling shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, kind eyes and sympathetic face, presses a mug of tea into his hands. He sees Laura, turning around a corner, supporting herself on the wall while walking, because her legs tremble underneath her. Her eyes are wide and numb, her face ashen. She drops on the chair beside Derek and bends forward, burying her face in her hands and starts to cry.  
  
When she stops sobbing and is able to use her voice again, she tells Derek Lou has just died. One of their youngest family members. She was only six years old. She was found beside Derek's severely burned but still living uncle. Somehow, Peter has managed to pull Lou out of the house with him. And now she’s dead. Now she stopped breathing behind an oxygen mask that was too big for her small face. Derek wants this nightmare to stop. He wants to wake up. Now. _Please_.  
  
But there’s no waking up. It’s reality. When he asks Laura for Peter, she swallows and says they don’t know if he’s going to survive. Derek stares at her disbelievingly. He can’t … This can’t be happening. He can’t imagine his uncle - who has always been strong and proud and taught him so much - dying in this hospital. He can’t. “He’s going to pull through, right?” He asks Laura. “I guess,” she says quietly. But she doesn’t sound convinced. She just sounds broken. As broken as Derek feels.  
  
 _I’m sorry_ , he wants to say. But he can’t even cry. He can only sit there with Laura, waiting. Waiting until someone tells them Peter is still alive, but not out of the woods yet. He’s weak and might not survive the night.  
  
Derek begs. He begs them to let him see Peter. Only for a while. They are reluctant. They don’t know about pack bonds and their healing effect, of course. But in the end, they let him. Because he’s a boy who lost eight family members on one day and is most likely going to lose another one soon. Because he’s almost on the floor, crying and pleading and people start to look. They let him see Peter, let him say goodbye properly. Laura doesn’t come. She stays in her chair, staring straight ahead with empty eyes.  
  
Peter is covered in blood soaked bandages and surrounded by strange machines. The sight is so disturbing, Derek almost turns on the doorstep, because this can’t be real. But he forces himself to enter the room, to sit on the uncomfortable plastic chair beside the bed. He takes Peter’s unburned hand in his and squeezes it. He focuses on pulling pain out his uncle’s body, focuses to send strength and energy into it. He feels himself weakening, but he doesn’t stop. He stays in Peter's room until an insistent but kind nurse tells him to go and get some rest.   
  


Derek doesn’t sleep that night.  
  
  
In the morning, he’s told Peter is still alive and they think he’s going to survive. But they had to put him into a coma and he might not wake up. Never. Derek takes the information in stoically, feeling for the pack bond. Relief floods him, when Peter’s is more stable, more pronounced and pulsing faintly.

He’s relieved, but the relief is short lived. It disappears under layers of guilt and unspeakable agony. He looks at himself in a bathroom mirror, and wants to shatter his reflection. 

It’s his fault they’re all dead.  
  
It’s his fault his family was trapped in the burning house.  
  
It’s his fault his uncle is in a coma, barely holding on. 

It’s his fault alone. He’s the one to blame.  
  
 _I’m sorry._

He finally tells Laura what happened, because it’s crushing him. He tells her and says he’s sorry. She can barely look at him. She barely talks to him. She flashes her red eyes at him and turns around, goes running in the forest. Derek stares after her and knows he deserves it. He deserves everything that follows …  
  
Only two days later, Laura tells him she wants to leave. She’s going to leave. She’s going to go to New York. She can’t stay.  
  
Derek is shocked. “What about Peter?” He asks.  
  
Laura hesitates, but she shakes her head. “He’s gone, Derek. You heard them. He most likely won't wake up. And if he does, he might be an invalid. I can’t do this.”  
  
Derek feels a combination of horror and anger. She can't be serious. Is she really telling him that he is supposed to leave a gravely injured pack member behind? His uncle, his teacher and friend? “So you’re just leaving him? He has a chance to recover with us around! We’re pack. His pack.” He raises his chin defiantly.  
  
Laura growls and stares him down. Derek’s wolf wants to submit and follow her, because she’s Alpha now. But … his human side pulls him in another direction.  
  
He can’t leave Peter behind. He can’t. “I’m staying,” he tells Laura. She says she doesn’t care. She says she’s going to find a pack. She says she can’t look him in the eyes anyway. Not after he told a hunter their secrets. Tells him she can’t stand this town and the ghosts living here anymore. And Derek watches her leave. Says, “I’m sorry,” for the last time. Laura never looks back.  
  


Derek visits Peter every day and holds his hand, talking to him, trying to give him strength. “I’m sorry,” he tells Peter. As often as possible. And he cries. Peter's silent room is the only place he can talk freely about what happened. Outside, he swallows it all down and hides behind a mask of indifference.  
  


It takes Peter years to wake up and move a single finger. It takes him another year to be able to talk and sit up. But he recovers slowly and the day comes when he softly asks, “Derek?”, his hand reaching for something, anything. Derek grabs it and sobs in relief.  
  
The doctors say it’s a miracle. Derek can’t tell them the truth of course. He watches Peter recovering a bit more every day and knows they will have to leave the hospital, before someone gets too suspicious.

“Where do you live now?” Peter asks him once, his voice still hoarse from disuse.  
  
Derek swallows. He lowers his head, looks at his folded hands and shrugs. “In the house.” In a house that smells of ash and rotten wood and despair.  
  
Peter frowns. “What? But it’s … Derek, it’s _broken_.”  
  
“I know. I …” Derek doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have a place for himself. It’s his fault after all. Living in the black carcass of their old pack house, where the wind pulls through mercilessly at night and the rain wakes him up sometimes when it falls through a hole in the roof, at least feels a little like a punishment. It feels like he's paying for what he did. _And I deserve that,_ he thinks. _I deserve to be punished. I deserve it. I’m sorry …_  
  
Peter watches him closely. Sadness fills his tired eyes. The one on his scarred side droops a little. Derek got used to it all. He's seen it daily. “Oh pup … Go to the vault and get yourself a proper flat. You know money is no problem. It never is.”  
  
Derek hesitates. It feels like too much. But in the end, he does as he’s told. More because he can’t take Peter to the burned out house when he can leave the hospital. Peter needs a place, so Derek gets him one. And stays there. Keeps it clean. 

  
Soon after, he pushes Peter out the hospital in a wheelchair. Peter sniffs the fresh air and sighs as the sun falls on his scarred face, closing his eyes. He obviously enjoys being out of the ever same four walls, and Derek is glad to not be alone anymore. Alone with the burning guilt and the sorrow. 

Peter screams himself sore in some nights. He claws at his face and whines as if he’s still burning. Derek shakes him until he wakes up, gasping and staring up blankly, his eyes filled with horror. And Derek doesn't even want to imagine what he's seeing. He doesn't want to imagine what Peter has experienced in the burning basement. And it's all his fault ...  
  
He can’t look Peter in the eye in the morning.

Once, when Derek brings Peter breakfast, he sees his uncle sitting up in bed and staring into the void, a very small smile on his face, like he’s remembering something. Maybe life with their family. With the pack … 

“I’m sorry,” Derek says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The words are so familiar painful on his lips. 

Peter startles a bit and looks at Derek. He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.”  
  
Derek’s breath falters. His eyes fill with tears. “But it is,” he breathes. “It is my fault.” _I told her._ _When Kate wanted to know ... When she called me pretty and amazing and strong and fascinating. When she said there shouldn't be any secrets between us ... Between two lovers._ He feels sick all over again.  
  
“No. It’s Kate Argent’s fault alone,” Peter tells him and his voice gets tight as soon as he mentions _her_ name. “She manipulated and abused you when you were vulnerable, Derek. She raped you. You were a teenager and she was an adult. She took advantage of you. You’re a victim, not a culprit.”  
  
Derek doesn’t know what to say. First, he doesn’t understand. How does Peter even know? But then, he realizes Peter has been listening to everything Derek had told him in the hospital, when he was in a coma. He heard everything. Heard him sobbing about Kate Argent and about what he’s done. Derek stands there frozen in place, Peter’s words echoing in his mind. A victim? He’s a victim?  
  
Peter sighs. He gets up with a groan, swaying slightly but staying on his feet. He staggers towards Derek and pulls him into a hug. “You’re not to blame, pup,” he says. “You’re not to blame.”  
  
 _It’s not your fault._  
  
Derek leans into the hug and closes his eyes.

For the first time in a long while, he doesn’t say I’m sorry. He says, “Okay.”

And he doesn’t feel better. But he feels less like a monster. He feels a little cleaner. And that’s something. It’s a start.

**Author's Note:**

> I had some emotions about Derek living in the burned out house, so I had to write this down. I like to make myself sad :,) 
> 
> ~ Visit me on [tumblr](https://ready-to-kick-some-ass.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
